Whispers
by Caitriona3
Summary: River hears a new murmur on the ship and decides to track its source. (Possibly a little fluffy...maybe...)


_Author's Note - Takes place after Miranda - with a big, big change because I really hate being Jossed. Told from River's POV, and I'm trying to get a feeling for her sort of style. Prompted by creativereadingfanfiction - full prompted noted at end._

**Whispers**

River cocked her head. The murmuring curled around her, painting the air with a swirl of colors…rich brown, deep green and subtle hints of ivory. Miranda changed so many things for her, making the connections in her mind easier, less confusing for her family, but it had not changed everything. Sometimes the stars were just stars…and sometimes they were the maps of safety and hidden treasure. The smallest of whispers told her an epic while the briefest flare of light might show a masterpiece. Now this new sound called her and she carefully put the ship on autopilot before floating out to find the source.

She paused in the galley, watching the two men who sat taking care of their weapons.

Yellow and orange splashed messily around the bigger one. He contradicted himself so much – he wanted family, money, safety, wildness, good, bad. It was all a jumble of sharp edges and soft spots. He wanted to be right but he wanted to be bad. River considered him The Barbarian for his lack of finesse and his reliance on brute strength. She wondered why he tried so hard to hide the side of him that loved his mother and liked little children. He glanced up, too used to ambush, and spotted her. "Ain't you supposed to be piloting?"

Now the other man glanced around, even though River knew he knew she was there. Of course, he knew she knew he knew, but he wouldn't say and she would keep his secrets. One corner of his mouth hitched up as he put clicked on the safety of his weapon. "Albatross," The Captain nodded. "Something wrong?"

With his recognition she slipped forward, her bare feet making only the most silent brushes of sound. "There is a whisper in the ship," she told him. "It is painting the air. I'm looking for it."

The Barbarian rolled his eyes, but dropped them at a sharp gaze from The Captain. River liked the colors that wrapped around The Captain like braided silk and leather - soft blue and unyielding gray combined with a thick red thread. She didn't like the way they would sometimes be edged in black. Sorrow dimmed the red and threatened the blue, but he never let it weaken the gray. The Captain was safe…the safest of all except maybe Simon. The Captain, no matter what, would never stop protecting her. Now he looked up at her. "Is the painting good or bad?"

Her smile grew as The Barbarian scoffed under his breath. Another reason The Captain was her favorite – he could almost understand her. She thought it was because he could almost have been like her but they didn't look for that in the outlying settlements, just in the Core. Taking a few more steps, she leaned into him. The Captain raised an eyebrow, but shifted and she sat down, balancing on his knee for a moment.

"It's a good one," she told him as she poked a finger at one of the guns. The Barbarian shifted uncomfortably, but didn't say anything.

"Not that one," The Captain sighed and pointed to a smaller gun.

River shook her head. "Won't need that until we meet the little king. He's talking to the bad wife."

"Badger and Saffron?"

"Mmm," she hummed in agreement. "The bad wife needs transport to a quiet place while the little king is upset about his scraps."

"Can we just shoot them this time?" The Barbarian asked.

"No," replied The Captain. "If we go shooting everybody we don't like, we won't have any more customers." A smile of mischief touched his lips. "We'll just have to turn things around on them."

River almost asked about a plan, but then the murmur started again. She stood up and began twirling away. "Going to find the whisper now," she told the men.

The Barbarian shook his head, but The Captain gave her a little nod. "Let us know when you find it."

"Aye, aye, Captain," she saluted and wandered out.

Her ears and eyes led her past the engine room. She glanced in, but just waved at the two figures inside. The Kitten flirted with Simon and he smiled. River would not interrupt. It had been too long since her brother's colors balanced like that. Pure white and sharp green was hard, hard to balance. The Kitten managed though. The Kitten with her gentle pink and light turquoise softened him and gave him a place of peace. Did he give her something? Maybe, but it felt weird to read Simon, so River tried not to…unless he needed her. She always knew when he was in trouble, and she would always save him like he saved her.

River would always protect The Kitten too…because The Kitten kept Simon safe, but in a different way.

Now her steps brought her to the cargo hold. The murmur grew to a crescendo and the colors grew even brighter, painting such a pretty picture. It was soft and fluffy and seemed to be like shapes in clouds. There were no clouds in the black, but the murmur wanted clouds. Maybe The Kitten could paint some?

"River?"

River's eyes focused and she found herself facing The Warrior and The Scout. She liked them. Not as much as The Captain or The Kitten, but they made her feel welcome and safe. The Warrior could wrap her in beige and ivory cotton lined with purple satin. River always felt safe with her, like she could be trusted to always tell River the truth, even when it was hard. The Scout let River test her wings and would play with her when she felt like being silly. His deep green and rich browns meant she could safely dance without fear of traps. Together they were sharp knives and floating leaves.

River blinked.

The murmur floated between them, its notes sparkling and brightening the air.

She nodded. Of course.

"River, honey?" The Warrior stepped forward, one strong hand moving to rest on River's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"The little soul was murmuring and I had to follow his painting," River told her.

The Scout blinked. "Uh," he drew out, frowning in confusion. "What now?"

"Will there be clouds above the cradle? He likes clouds, likes the idea of flying," she replied.

The Warrior went still; her hand tightening on River's shoulder before her other hand went to her abdomen. Several emotions flickered through The Warrior's gaze even though her face remained calm and serene. "He?"

"Simon will say he doesn't know and it is too early," River smiled. She leaned forward and whispered, "He likes clouds."

"Thank you, sweetheart," The Warrior replied steadily. "Do you know where Simon is?"

"Simon is in the engine room." River's head tilted. "You better interrupt him soon, or you won't want to go there for a little while. He will turn red."

The Warrior nodded. "Now is good?"

"Now? Good?" The Scout tripped along behind her. "Ah, sweetie, what's going on and why are we going after Simon? Who likes clouds and why is it too early?"

"Explanations in a few minutes, honey," The Warrior told him as she strode out of the cargo hold. "Simon now – before he and Kaylee get too wrapped up in each other."

River watched as they left the room and took the murmur with them. She began drifting towards the cockpit once more. Maybe they should go somewhere other than the little king's planet of springtime. The little soul liked clouds and flying and leaves, but he was too little for the knives and the bright flashes. So Auntie River would have to take care of those until he was big enough to learn. She stopped and considered.

Should she tell The Captain?

No, she decided.

The little soul would be a good surprise for The Captain…if one surprise was good, then two would be even better.

She giggled and dashed out of the room, hurrying to do her part.

That's what families did after all.

_Author's Note part 2 - Prompt - (paraphrased) - something showing Wash as a daddy. This doesn't quite fit the bill, but it is what was inspired._


End file.
